Arknights - Unknown To Dawn

ED: Hello everyone, here's the new chaper of the fanfic. Also i almost forgot, Xian is still Xian and the story is slow progress ok! anyways, I hope you guy's enjoy the chapter!

Note: Reread if you want to understand Xian more.

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Midnight.

The rain outside hammered against the building, the wind howling through the cracks like a restless beast. Inside the storage room, though, it was quieter like muted, but not completely cut off from the storm outside. The occasional gust rattled the wooden panels, making the dimly lit space feel even more isolated from the rest of the world.

Xian stood near the door, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on W.

She was sitting at the edge of the table, her right hand clutching the blanket wrapped tightly around her body. Golden eyes stared back at him, sharp despite the fatigue lingering beneath them.

There was a moment of silence before Xian finally spoke.

"…Are you even telling the truth about being hungry?"

W blinked once, then smirked. "What, not going to take a woman at her word? That's ungentlemanly of you."

Xian exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly, though his mind was still processing everything that had happened. She was right about one thing. He wasn't a doctor, not even a temporary one. He had no assistant, no qualifications, and definitely no reason to be here taking care of her.

Yet here they were.

W shifted slightly, gripping the blanket tighter before extending her free hand and pointing a finger directly at him.

"Just in case you forgot," she continued lazily, "I'm still a woman. And in case you haven't noticed—" she gestured at herself dramatically, "I don't have clothes on. Just this blanket."

Xian didn't even flinch. "There's a spare set under the table. On top of the box." His tone was flat, practical.

With that, he turned around and walked past her, heading straight for the door.

W raised a brow, lips parting as if to say something, but before she could, Xian cut her off.

"I won't look," he said calmly. "And whatever ridiculous stunt you try, it won't work."

His hand reached for the door handle.

"You're still too weak," he added. "And the tools you need? Not around."

W narrowed her eyes. She didn't like that he was always one step ahead of her.

Xian stood there, back facing her, completely still.

She studied him for a second longer before letting out a small huff. Whatever. Not like she couldn't find another way when the time was right.

Getting up from the table, she squatted down and reached beneath it, her fingers brushing against a plastic bag. Pulling it out, she gave it a once-over before undoing the top and peeking inside.

Clothes.

Good enough.

"Not bad," she muttered, standing up and inspecting the set—a plain white T-shirt, a clay-green jacket, and a pair of regular pale-blue pants. She didn't complain.

Her gaze flickered toward Xian, who was still near the door, unmoving. A slow grin formed on her lips.

"You know," she said mockingly, "you've got this habit of cutting me off before I can even get my words out. You always that rude?"

Xian, without turning, shrugged. "You talk too much."

W scoffed, shaking her head as she started to get dressed.

The room fell into a tense silence, only broken by the soft rustling of fabric.

Xian, despite his earlier claim of not looking, found himself instinctively glancing toward the wall clock near the door.

1:08 AM.

He sighed.

Another long night as the time had passed faster than he expected, but what unsettled him wasn't the hour but the creeping realization settling in his chest.

The dull ache at his lower left back refused to fade, a constant, gnawing reminder of something that didn't sit right with him.

His suspicions churned in his mind, coiling like an unseen shadow creeping at the edges of his thoughts. He had been ignoring it, convincing himself it was just a minor muscle pain but the lingering pain was strong, like he's been eating out alive as it intensify every minutes pases.

Fear almost consumes him from a moment but he instinctively falters his mind.

No. He forced his body to maintain its calm posture, thankful that the mask hid his expression. He couldn't afford to let W see anything slip.

"You're awfully calm," W's voice cut through his thoughts.

Xian blinked, snapping out of his silent contemplation. He hadn't even noticed she had finished dressing. Still facing away from her, he kept his tone even as he responded.

"What do you mean?"

W let out a scoff, amusement laced in her words. "After everything that happened earlier… you're still acting so calmly like everything's nothing wrong."

Xian took a second before answering. "I'm used to this kind of thing." His words were vague, but the weight behind them was clear.

W tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes studying him with an unreadable expression. She didn't linger and deeps dive at him and just shrugged while still looking around standing.

She then looks at him again as didn't respond, just watching him in silence. Then, she quietly slid on a pair of sandals she had found along with the clothes, testing the fit before stepping forward.

Xian, still lost in his thoughts, barely registered the soft sound of her approaching footsteps. It wasn't until they grew closer and closer that his instincts kicked in.

He turned.

Only to find the sharp tip of a screwdriver hovering inches from his mask.

His body stiffened for a fraction of a second, his muscles instinctively tensing. W, on the other hand, grinned, her expression sharp and entertained.

"So," she mused, tilting her head slightly, "still feeling calm now?"

Arknights: Unknown To Dawn

Xian's brain short-circuited the moment he saw the screwdriver hovering inches from his mask.

You've got to be kidding me.

His mind immediately went into overdrive, cursing himself for the absolute blunder of leaving a screwdriver within W's reach. He had thought even for a second that she was too weak to pull something like this. A mistake. A mistake he would not make again.

Still, on the outside, he remained as still as ever. His body refused to react, not even flinching. The mask helped, concealing any trace of the rising panic clawing at his chest.

From W's perspective, he looked eerily composed, as if this weapon pointed at his face was just another minor inconvenience. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly, scanning him, her lips curling in amusement.

"Hmm," she hummed, keeping the screwdriver steady. "So calm even now. Either you've got a backup plan…" She tilted her head slightly, watching for the slightest movement. "Or you're just that confident, huh?"

Xian still didn't speak. Not because he didn't want to, but because his mind was still running through his options, reevaluating the situation.

W's smirk widened. "Oh? What's this? So shocked you forgot how to talk?" she mocked, her voice laced with amusement and just the right amount of sadistic pleasure.

Xian, momentarily caught off guard, blinked before sighing heavily. His shoulders relaxed as he let out an exaggerated breath.

"Is there no end to your antics?" he said, nonchalantly, as if she weren't literally threatening him with a tool.

W, of course, didn't buy it for a second. Her eyes gleamed with knowing amusement. "You're hiding your fear."

Xian snorted. "I'm not hiding anything. I'm just tired. It's already past 1:10 AM."

W rolled her eyes. "Right, that's your excuse?" She twirled the screwdriver slightly between her fingers. "Then what was that silence earlier?"

Without missing a beat, Xian let out another dramatic sigh and muttered, "I was just stunned by how gorgeous you look in those clothes."

The sheer boldness of the statement made W's smirk falter for half a second. She blinked, her head tilting slightly.

Then, she laughed. Loudly.

"Oh, please," she said between chuckles. "Flattery won't get you out of this."

Xian shrugged. "Not lying."

W huffed, rolling her shoulders back. Now that she was fully dressed, she certainly did look different though, of course, she still had that ever-present smug expression.

She wore a simple white t-shirt beneath a clay-green jacket, the sleeves slightly rolled up. Regular pale blue pants hugged her form, and on her feet, a pair of sandals that seemed slightly loose but functional enough.

She eyed him for a moment longer before sighing, shaking her head. "You really need to work on your reasoning."

Xian, arms crossed, countered effortlessly, "No, I don't." Then, with another deep sigh, he reached for the screwdriver.

W immediately gripped it tighter, resisting.

For about two seconds.

Then, reality kicked in. Even if she wanted to fight back, her current state wasn't doing her any favors. Xian smoothly took the tool from her grasp with minimal effort.

He held it up slightly, as if to remind her. "You're still weak."

W's smirk returned, but this time, there was a glint in her eyes. "For now."

Xian didn't push further. Instead, he turned around and opened the door.

The moment he did, a blast of cold air hit him, carrying the deafening roar of the storm outside. Heavy rain crashed against the ground, winds howled, and in the distance, occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the dark streets.

Xian stood in the doorway for a moment, letting the storm's chaos settle in his ears before speaking.

"So," he said, glancing back at her. "What do you want to eat?"

W, still irritated, still smug, glaring at his back, muttered under her breath, "One day, I'm going to kill you."

Xian, unfazed, tilted his head slightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

W let out an exaggerated sigh. "Whatever. Anything's fine."

Xian stepped out of the room, the echoes of his footsteps muffled by the rain pounding against the windows. The hallway was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the wooden floor, blending into the dark corners of the house.

As he made his way forward, W emerged from behind, stepping out of the storage room. The soft creak of the door behind him signaled her presence.

He didn't need to turn around to know she was following him.

W, arms casually tucked into the pockets of her jacket, sauntered behind him with her usual lazy gait. She could have said something to mocked him for his silence, asked if he was still upset about the screwdriver but instead, she simply trailed him, watching.

By the time they reached the kitchen, Xian had already settled into a routine. He moved with a practiced ease, opening a cabinet, pulling out a few ingredients, and setting them on the counter. Despite the exhaustion creeping up on him, his hands worked on autopilot.

W plopped herself down at the table, resting an elbow against the wooden surface as she watched him. The mask was still on.

Her golden eyes narrowed slightly.

"You know," she drawled, resting her chin on her palm. "You don't have to keep wearing that thing."

Xian didn't respond. He grabbed a knife and started chopping, his movements precise, deliberate.

W tilted her head slightly, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "I still remember your face, you know."

Still no response.

Xian focused on the ingredients in front of him, mentally dispelling his earlier worries while also deciding what to make for a midnight snack.

W exhaled through her nose, a huff of amusement at being ignored.

"Black hair, black eyes, looks average… maybe a little skinny," she continued, listing off his features like she was reading off a wanted poster.

Xian's hand stilled against the chopping board. The kitchen filled with nothing but the faint crackle of rain outside, the distant roll of thunder.

He wished she had no recollection of his face.

Even though he knew it was pointless.

After a beat, he sighed. He set the knife down and reached up, undoing the straps of his mask before pulling it off in one smooth motion.

W's lips curled in satisfaction as she finally got what she wanted.

Then, after a moment of silence, she smirked wider and said, "Yeah, still looks average."

Xian's expression barely changed, but internally, his brain short-circuited.

…What the hell does that even mean?

A twitch formed at the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable, but it was there. He debated responding, maybe throwing something back at her, but ultimately, he just shook his head and returned to cooking. Not worth it.

W, thoroughly entertained, let out a small chuckle before stretching her arms out in front of her. After watching him for a few more moments, she exhaled and shifted her posture.

Leaning forward, she rested her face against her folded arms, her body slumping into a lazy but comfortable position. The dim light in the kitchen cast a soft glow over her, accentuating the subtle exhaustion beneath her usual smugness.

But hidden within her jacket pocket, barely noticeable beneath the fabric, was a glimmering needle that something she had found earlier in the storage room.

Her fingers brushed against it absentmindedly.

She was waiting.

For the perfect moment.

After minutes have passed.

The soft clinking of metal against ceramic echoed in the quiet kitchen as Xian placed two bowls of steaming chicken stew on the table. The rich aroma of warm broth and tender meat mixed with the faint scent of rain from outside. W, still resting her head on her arms moments ago, lazily looked up, her golden eyes flickering with mild curiosity.

"Smells decent," she murmured, stretching slightly before sitting up properly.

Xian, already taking his seat across from her, gave a small shrug. "Eat while it's hot."

W grabbed the spoon resting beside the bowl, still wrapped in a thin paper napkin. She unwrapped it, scooped up some broth, and took a sip. The warmth spread through her, easing the lingering cold from her damp clothes. It was good comforting, even but she wasn't about to praise him.

Meanwhile, Xian quietly performed a small ritual. He placed his right hand on his forehead, then his stomach, followed by his left and right shoulders. Finally, he clasped his hands together briefly in what seemed like a short prayer before lowering them and taking his first sip of the soup.

W raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-bite. "What was that?"

Xian blinked at her. "What?"

"That little... whatever you just did." She waved her spoon vaguely in his direction. "You one of those Laterano devotees or something?"

Xian stopped for a moment, the mention of Laterano bringing back old memories from the game. The country of pristine white city structures, Sankta wielding firearms, and streets filled with the scent of sweets. He pushed the thought aside and shook his head. "No. Just something my family taught me."

W scoffed lightly but didn't press further. However, she caught a flicker of something in his expression just for a second, like a shadow crossing over his dark eyes.

Before she could dig into it, he suddenly spoke. "What about you?"

W blinked. "Hah?"

"You ever devote yourself to someone before?" His tone was casual, but there was an underlying weight to the question.

Her grip on the spoon tightened. A distant memory stirred. A face, a name she hadn't thought about in a long time. Her gaze darkened for just a moment before she scoffed, leaning back.

"Tch. That's none of your business," she said, an edge creeping into her voice. "What, you really think you know me that well?"

Xian met her gaze, calm and unwavering. "Not everything," he admitted.

W studied him, suspicion creeping into her mind. "Then how do you know what you do?" Her tone was laced with something between curiosity and wariness. "That question just now... it's like you actually know my past."

Xian took another sip of his soup, seemingly unaffected. "Don't worry," he said evenly. "I won't tell anyone."

His next words, however, carried a quiet certainty.

"I'm not one of them."

W narrowed her eyes, tapping her spoon against the rim of the bowl. His words were firm and deliberate. There was a meaning behind them, but she couldn't quite figure it out yet.

The storm raged on outside, the wind howling through the cracks of the house, rattling against the windows. The occasional lightning strike illuminated the room in brief flashes, casting long, sharp shadows. The floor was cold beneath W's bare feet, but the chill in the air was nothing compared to the creeping unease settling in her mind.

She knew exactly who Xian was talking about.

The people who betrayed her.

The ones who leaves her from world thats already upside down, leaving nothing but scars and haunting ghosts.

A bitter chuckle left her lips, though it carried no amusement. "You're really pissing me off, you know that?" She leaned forward, golden eyes narrowing as she studied him. "You keep acting like you know me, like you've seen things you shouldn't. So tell me." Her voice lowered, dangerously smooth. "How do you know all that?"

Xian didn't answer immediately. He simply continued eating, his chopsticks moving with calm precision, as if her growing hostility was nothing more than background noise.

The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

W didn't even realize she had already finished her meal. Her spoon rested idly in the bowl, forgotten. Her hands, however, remained steady. If this man truly knew that much about her, then there was only one solution.

Eliminate him.

Before he could become a threat.

Before he could use what he knew against her.

Yet, just as her thoughts darkened, Xian placed his chopsticks down with a soft clink, finally breaking the silence. He leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose as if amused.

"You only need to know one thing," he said, his voice even. His dark eyes met hers, unwavering.

"I know you."

Then, with an air of casual politeness, he added, "And since you seem so interested, I should probably introduce myself properly."

W's fingers twitched, her instinct screaming that something wasn't right. "Cut the crap." She scoffed. "You know someone like me doesn't take kindly to people digging into my past. That kinda knowledge comes with a price."

She grinned, but there was no warmth in it. "And I don't mean money."

Xian nodded slightly, unfazed. "I know." He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. "That's why I want to make a deal with you."

A spark of interest flickered in W's eyes. "A deal?"

"You work for me." His words were simple, but the weight behind them was anything but.

W tilted her head, intrigued yet skeptical. "That's what you want? You're offering to keep your mouth shut in exchange for my services?"

"That's right."

"And what if I say no?"

Xian's gaze didn't waver. "Then you lose what you truly want."

W's smirk faltered. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Your freedom."

The words cut through the air like a blade.

For the first time, W hesitated. Her grip on the edge of the table tightened slightly as she studied him, trying to read between the lines. The light from another flash of lightning briefly illuminated his face, revealing the same irritating calmness he always carried.

Xian raised a hand, waving it lazily. "Relax. I know you hate being used as a pawn, but let me clarify something, I just need your expertise as a mercenary. That's all."

W's lips pressed into a thin line. She could tell he wasn't lying. She didn't even know if he really was a master to play mind games. But that only made him more dangerous.

Because if what he didn't say was true, if the bluff about possessing a weapon strong enough to destroy a nomadic city was real—then…

A chilling thought crept into her mind.

For the first time in a long while, W felt something she despised.

Uncertainty.

And just the slightest hint of fear.

The room was still heavy with the storm's fury, the winds howling outside, the relentless rain tapping against the windows. But inside, there was an odd sense of stillness between them.

W's golden eyes remained fixed on Xian as he rose from his seat, the movement fluid and deliberate. His footsteps were soft, almost soundless, as he moved to her right side. She didn't flinch. As a mercenary, she knew how to read the intentions in people's eyes. And right now, she saw nothing but calm determination in his dark gaze. No malice. No hidden danger.

But still…

She remained wary. There was something in the way he moved, something just out of reach, that unsettled her.

Standing next to her, Xian finally spoke, breaking the silence. "My name is Xian." His voice was calm, measured, as if he had nothing to hide.

For a split second, his expression softened, his eyes almost distant, as though recalling something from the past. A brief moment of vulnerability flickered before it disappeared, replaced once more by that unwavering composure.

"Xian Maverick," he continued, his tone steady, as if it was just another piece of information for her to absorb.

W's eyes narrowed, studying him, her mind still racing. Xian Maverick. She repeated the name in her head, trying to attach it to something, anything, but it remained unfamiliar. She didn't let it show, though.

Then, Xian extended his right hand toward her, his palm open, waiting. His offer was clear.

W looked down at his hand. It was an invitation, a challenge, but also a test. His hand wasn't trembling. No hesitation. Just a simple gesture, like this was all a formality to him.

She stared at it for a long moment, her gaze shifting between his hand and his face. She still had the needle tucked away in her pocket, just out of sight. It would be so easy to take advantage of this moment, to strike quickly, to end whatever this was before it could go any further.

But as she considered it, she realized something. She had been so focused on seeing him as just another average person, someone she could read, someone she could outsmart but now… now he had her intrigued. There was something deeper to him, something hidden behind that calm demeanor, and for the first time in a while, she couldn't immediately figure him out.

He wasn't just some pawn in her game. He was different.

And that made him all the more dangerous.

W's fingers hovered over the needle in her pocket, but she hesitated. If he was trying to force her into a corner, if he was truly planning on using her, then she'd deal with it later. But for now…

Her lips curled into a mocking smirk as she met his gaze. "Naive," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really think I'm just going to shake your hand like this, huh?"

Xian didn't flinch. He didn't take the bait. Instead, he looked at her with a knowing expression. "I know."

W's smirk deepened, amused at how easily he acknowledged her games. "Well, I guess you're not as dumb as you look." She shifted in her seat, then leaned forward slightly, extending her hand to meet his. "W," she said, her voice still tinged with mockery. "That's my name."

Their hands met, firm and deliberate, as they shook. Xian's grip was strong, but not overpowering. He didn't try to dominate the moment.

It was just business.

But W was starting to wonder.

What kind of business?.